


Destroyer of Worlds

by Pollarize



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Homelessness, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:16:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize
Summary: "Now, I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds." I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of the song Kids in the Dark by All Time Low as well as my favorite quote, read by J. Robert Oppenheimer
> 
> This story is really dark so please be mindful of yourself as you read this

It was for the kids with nowhere to go, with no hope. It was the weird kids that sat on benches alone during school and it was the kids that talked about death and suicide. It was for kids like Tyler.

 

He didn’t remember how it started, why it started, all he knew was that he was on the bathroom floor, sobbing as he listened to his father pounding on the door, screaming and screaming while Tyler begged him not to. 

 

“Five minutes,” Tyler begged but it didn’t matter. He was a liar, he lied, he lied, why did he lie? 

 

“Five minutes,” he tried again but nothing came out because the door was crashing open and he was a puddle on the floor. He couldn’t breathe. There was a mix of snot and tears on his face and he kept trying to wipe them away but it didn’t matter because seconds later, fresh ones replaced them. He tried to breathe but he couldn’t because the air was suffocating as his father sat on the edge of the bathtub next to him. His father shoved his foot under Tyler’s face, forced him to squirm away until he was nothing but a ball, watched as his very own son hyperventilated and struggled to breathe.

 

He didn’t stop yelling until his very own son begged for death.

 

“I just want to be dead,” Tyler said in between hiccups and tears, in between the attempts at singing a song in his head to relax. It didn’t work and Tyler thought death would be easier. 

 

He didn’t miss the way his father got silent, stood up and left the bathroom. Even then, the tears didn’t stop. Tyler didn’t miss the way his father yelled at his mother.

 

“I don’t want him in this house. Take him to the hospital if he wants to die so bad,” and so she did. She picked Tyler up from the bathroom floor and guided him out to the car. She didn’t talk to him as he covered his face and leaned against the window, his sobs never dying down. 

 

The hospital took him into a back room and checked his vitals. They asked if he had ever contemplated suicide and his mother tensed and Tyler nodded.

 

He was in a hospital bed when they gave him medicine and promised it would calm him down. They explained that he had a mental breakdown, that he was to stay there until he thought it was safe to go home. He laughed. Then he cried because he’d cried until he gave himself a pounding headache so he cried some more until they gave him pain meds. He cried until he was running across the hall to throw up what little he had eaten. 

 

After that, he felt like a zombie. He laid in bed and realized that it was the psyche ward, that the guy next to him had taken some serious drugs and was talking about some vehicle, that the woman on the other side of Tyler was screaming and screaming. They had guards outside their doors and nurses that checked on them every five minutes. Tyler noticed that everything was covered, that there were no sharp edges, no way to kill yourself. There wasn’t even a mirror in the bathroom. Tyler saw that the doors locked from the outside and his had scratch marks on the inside. 

 

Tyler realized that he put himself in the hospital and he curled in on himself, sleeping in a hospital gown that didn’t cover him and nothing else.

 

They asked Tyler if he was safe to go home at six in the morning. He said that his father would never physically hit him, that everything was in his words. They didn’t look so sure but Tyler changed into his regular clothes and kept his head down as he met up with his mother. She was quiet as they drove and then told him he didn’t have to go to school. Tyler went anyway. 

 

He wanted out of the house. He didn’t bother with a shower because he didn’t want to think about the night before. 

 

That was when they first approached Tyler.

 

He became one of the weird kids that sat alone on benches and one of the kids who talked about death and suicide. Tyler’s friend asked what happened, had joked about it but didn’t know how serious things were.

 

“Dude, you look like death, what happened?” Mark had asked, nudging Tyler as he sat down. Tyler didn’t laugh like usual, didn’t look up from the spot he was staring at on the floor.

 

“Maybe I am,” he said and Mark grew concerned.

 

“You’re Death?” He asked and Tyler shrugged.

 

“Maybe I am,” he said and Mark had no idea what he should do, what he should say. He got up quietly and left and Tyler didn’t blame him. A kid approached Tyler and he finally looked up, met eyes with the guy and Tyler shrugged again. “I’d have done the same thing,” but the kid was confused, didn’t understand what Tyler meant.

 

He sat down next to Tyler, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scrap piece of paper. He scribbled some information on it and folded it up before he took Tyler’s hand and put the paper in it. The boy closed Tyler’s hand around it and gave it a pat for finality.

 

“Don’t be afraid of The Dark,” he said, standing up and leaving without another word. Tyler wondered if the boy had over heard what Tyler had said, if he could see it in Tyler’s eyes. 

 

Tyler looked down at the paper and there wasn’t much on it. Just ‘The Dark’, an address, a date, and a time. He figured the guy was recruiting for something but he wasn’t sure what, wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was for. Tyler hoped it was a suicide pact.

 

The date was two days away and Tyler spent that night debating over it. The time put it at midnight and Tyler wasn’t sure if he should even go. It seemed sketchy that it was passed down from a kid at school that Tyler had never talked to before. It seemed even more sketchy when the address turned up as a gas station at the edge of town. Tyler knew that it was used mainly by truck drivers that didn’t shower, knew that it was gross and in a bad part of town. 

 

It was the eight of the month and the paper that Tyler had crumpled and uncrumpled said it was tonight. He sat on his bed at ten at night and knew that if he was going to make it on time by foot, he’d have to leave now. He listened as his parents went to bed and listened as the floors creaked under his foot. 

 

Nobody stopped him or nobody noticed as he opened the door and left. 

 

All Tyler brought was his phone and a jacket but he still shivered. He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see his father or to see a cop ready to bring him home but there was never anything. He figured that his father never would, he still refused to look at Tyler after what he’d done, refused to talk. Tyler was sure that he knew that Tyler was left as half of who he was before. He was left with nothing recognizable, his smile that used to be his favorite feature was gone. He felt dead, he wanted to be dead.

 

It was a minute past twelve when Tyler showed up. He was shaking violently, collar rolled up and chin ducked down. He had his hands so far into his pockets that he was sure it had stretched into a dress. He stood on the corner of the sidewalk, looking around for something, for someone that he was supposed to meet. That’s what he was here for, it had to be. There was no other reason for him to be here. Tyler was sure that the kid would have offered up a dollar if it was a bubble gum run.

 

It was a kid in a black hoodie that stuck to the shadows. His face was hidden but Tyler just knew that that was who he was here to see. He walked forward slowly, looking around to see if anyone else came, if anyone else walked over towards the person. Nobody did.

 

They spotted Tyler right away, slunk back so they were hidden again. Tyler stopped a respectable distance away, kicking at the ground and loose rocks. Nobody said anything for a long time, both of them staring at anything but each other before the other boy spoke up.

 

“Password?” He asked and Tyler’s heart sunk. He wasn’t sure why because he had shown up expecting nothing. He got nothing now and he was still disappointed. Tyler shrugged.

 

“I never got a password. Some kid just wrote an address and a time and I showed up,” he said and that seemed to spark something in the stranger. He stepped forward, half his face showing. Tyler had never met them before.

 

“Some kid?” He asked and Tyler nodded.

  
“I go to school with them but we’ve never talked, I don’t know his name,” he said and the boy nodded. 

 

“But you showed up,” they pointed out and Tyler didn’t know what he should feel, he tried denying it.

 

“I don’t even know why, I should go home,” he said, turning but not actually going anywhere. He could see half of a smile on the kids face. 

 

“Don’t be afraid of The Dark,” he said and it was enough to have Tyler frozen in place. He remembered the kid from school saying those exact words to him. He still didn’t understand why but it was enough to keep him there longer.

 

“The Dark?” Tyler asked and the boy reached a hand out. Tyler shook it without hesitation.

 

“Don’t be afraid of The Dark. Meet me tomorrow at the school that burnt down last year, as soon as you possibly can,” he said and Tyler nodded. He agreed and turned to leave before he was stopped.

 

“No phones,” was the only thing that was put out so Tyler continued walking.

 

It had taken him another two hours to get home and school the next day was miserable. He slept through his classes and texted his mother at lunch that he was going home with a friend for dinner. She sent a smiley face in return, no doubt happy that he was getting out and doing something, that he wasn’t so emotionless anymore.

 

He walked off school property, stopping in front of a trashcan. He had no idea where he was going after the school, if he would go home again and pretend like he was okay. He wondered if, maybe, today he would die.

 

“I am become Death,” he said, dropping his phone into the trashcan. It was the first thing Tyler laughed at, trying to picture how he could destroy worlds with nothing other than his person and a thin jacket. He thought that maybe the world he destroyed was his own, that after today, Tyler Joseph would no longer exist. He’d be left with whatever shell of a life he chose to present.

 

Tyler walked to where the elementary school used to be, seeing nothing but dirt and the faintest resemblance of a structure still standing. A few metal beams still stood where they used to hold walls.

 

Tyler sat in the dirt while he waited. The rational half of his mind screamed that he was going to be murdered, that nobody came near the ruins of Crestline Elementary and that he could have his throat slit, here and now, and nobody would know. The other half of his mind screamed yes, that he wanted to die more than anything and he looked around, disappointed that he didn’t see the shiny glint of a knife blade.

 

Instead, he saw a person emerge from the treeline. He wore a black hoodie that covered most of his face but it was bright out still and Tyler could see him better than the night before. He looked a few years older, brown hair that flopped into his eye. Tyler stood and met him halfway. They didn’t shake hands.

 

“You came,” he said and Tyler thought that it was obvious. 

 

“I’ve got nothing left to lose,” he said and the boy nodded.

 

“You aren’t afraid of The Dark,” the boy said, smiling wide at Tyler. He turned and started to walk away, leaving Tyler to follow or to go back home. He didn’t want to be at home, didn’t want to see his father and have to remember the hospital or the way his head still ached. So, he followed the unknown boy and kept close. 

 

They walked along dirt roads and abandoned roads, roads with few houses and roads with lots where they hung their heads and moved quickly. Tyler didn’t know why he hung his head too but it seemed like he should have so he did. 

 

They didn’t stop walking until the sun went down and Tyler watched his shadow fade. It shrunk until darkness engulfed them and the boy’s hood went down. They entered a field with grass that was dead and met their knees and they kept walking. Tyler’s stomach growled but he kept silent, looking around. They were at the top of a hill, looking down at a building that had faint light leaking out of cracked windows. He could see graffiti on the walls, could see other people milling around but they all stuck close to the building, never venturing far.

 

The boy smiled and rested his hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

 

“Never be afraid of The Dark, it’s here to help. It’s for people like you, nowhere to go and nowhere to run, so they run here. They run straight into The Dark and we help,” he explained and Tyler realized what he’d done. 

 

He had run away, ditched his phone in a trashcan so he couldn’t be traced. He walked into a different town and through a field to find a building that was broken and ruined but it was home. Tyler thought that it felt like home to him too. It was better than the roof which yelled at him until he couldn’t breathe. 

 

Tyler’s head stopped hurting as he followed the boy down the hill. He stood in the doorway of The Dark and looked around. There were people sleeping on old mattresses and playing cards in a corner. There was a group of boys that kept their backs to everyone, hunched over and talking amongst themselves. 

 

Nobody looked at Tyler until he put one foot inside the building and then he was swarmed, people touching his hair, his arms, his chest, introducing themselves and there were so many names that Tyler didn’t catch a single one. 

 

“Jack,”

 

“Pete,”

 

“Brendon,” they all said and Tyler’s eyes were wide and unseeing, trying to find some way to get out and away. 

 

They all touched until they were satisfied with whatever before the disbanded and let him two steps in. Then, they were asking his name, touching again. It felt like one boy was trying to take Tyler’s jacket. He pulled it tighter around his body and set his jaw, feeling the hands on his collar disappear.    
  
“Death,” he said and they all backed away, not sure what to make of the new kid. One kid laughed and linked arms with Tyler, dragging him away from the huddle. He recognized him as the one who brought him here. His finger pointed at another kid that had touched Tyler far too much. 

 

“Nobody here uses their real names really, see him? He says it’s Brendon but I hear it’s actually Eugene,” he explained and Tyler nodded like it made sense.

 

He was dragged to a makeshift kitchen where a small camping stove was set up and a dented pot on top of it. There was soup cooking and Tyler realized he had been accepted into a homeless camp, that he was homeless along with the rest of them. Tyler didn’t cry. He sat down by the boy in ratty lawn chairs and watched as the soup bubbled.

 

“People come here for different reasons. A lot of them had a shitty home and needed away, some just needed some form of independence. There’s a few of us that are eighteen and work odd jobs for money, for food. I feed everyone here and Jack gets anything else,” the boy explained and Tyler looked around the building, finding people spread out and doing whatever they did to keep busy. 

 

“I started it because I had nothing else left for me. I was sixteen and wanted to die and my family made it worse so I left. Jack came with me, said he needed to take care of me. We stole for a while but not anymore, we buy everything.” Tyler was handed a glass bowl that was chipped around the edges and a spoon that looked like it had been bent in half at one point. 

 

“And I can stay here?” Tyler asked. He took a bite of the soup and it had come from a can but it didn’t taste bad. It was food and he was starving.

  
“Yeah, you can stay here. If you want to go home, just came here for a break, that’s fine. If you never go home, that’s fine. You can either move out when you’re ready but all we ask is that at eighteen, you look at getting a job to help out with the costs,” he explained and Tyler thought it was fair. 

 

He was left alone for the rest of the night and he curled up in a corner that was darker than the rest. Noises kept him up until past midnight and then he fell asleep. 

 

Tyler woke up to a face he didn’t recognize and a helping hand. 

 

“Jack,” he said again and helped Tyler to his feet. “Wanted some help grocery shopping,” he said, leaving the building and walking towards a small, family owned store. 

 

That became Tyler’s role. He went to the store and helped carry bags back, helped pick out things that were cheap but filling.

 

On the third day, Tyler was given the black hoodie and Jack instructed him to keep his head low. As they walked into the store, the TV behind the front counter was on the news channel.

 

_ “There has been word that a local boy by the name of Tyler Joseph has been missing. Any information regarding his whereabouts, please call,” _

 

Tyler kept his head low and picked out some soups that were his personal favorites. 

 

On the fifth day, his mother was on the news doing an interview. 

 

_ “I want my boy back. It’s been almost a week and I’m worried about him,” _ she said and Tyler cried. He stood outside of the store while Jack paid. 

 

Neither commented on the fact that it was Tyler they were looking for until they were back inside the building that Tyler tentatively called home.

 

“We’ve all had families search for us,” he said, putting the bags next to the makeshift stove they had. Tyler kept his eyes to the ground, knowing they were red and still wet. He told them he was Death, he needed to be stronger. Tyler shrugged and closed his eyes.

 

“They won’t search long,” he said before walking to his corner and sitting down. He pulled the hood low on his face and then napped until the sun went down and the kids in The Dark came out to live their lives.

 

Tyler was woken to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He swatted the hand away before he opened his eyes. The person in front of him had tried cutting his own hair, the lengths were choppy and uneven. His hair was greasy in the way Tyler’s was starting to become. His teeth were yellow but he was still undeniably beautiful. He smiled and his eyes crinkled and Tyler didn’t even mind if he could smell the boy from where he was because Tyler was sure the other could smell him, too.

 

“You’ve been sleeping for awhile,” was all he said. He didn’t help Tyler to his feet, didn’t even stick around to talk. He left and disappeared behind some other kids. 

 

Tyler’s legs were numb from how he had been sitting and his butt hurt from the hard ground but he couldn’t move so he just stayed where he was and watched. He didn’t mind living in The Dark, thought that maybe it was the best thing for him. Even if they had a weird way of showing it, the older kids seemed to look out for Tyler and the rest of them. 

 

Eventually his legs felt like pins and needles and he chanced standing. He leaned against the wall as he moved, knees buckling and feet hurting as blood rushed back into his limbs. He got odd stares from the other kids but no one stopped him. 

 

Tyler walked until he saw choppy hair and a yellow smile. He collapsed on the hard ground next to the boy, not sure why but he felt safe sitting with him.

 

“Why are you here?” The boy asked and Tyler shrugged.

 

“You woke me up, it was annoying. Now I’m going to annoy you,” he explained. Nobody besides Jack knew Tyler’s real name and that hadn’t been on purpose.

 

“What? You gonna annoy me to death?” He said it like it was a joke but Tyler didn’t laugh. He shrugged as he looked around. Tyler had hoped stupidly that once he was away from his father he wouldn’t feel so empty but here he sat, sitting next to someone who was beautiful, who was smiling at him, and Tyler felt nothing.

 

He didn’t miss the hand that was extended out to him. Instead, Tyler stared at the wall ahead of him, face blank until he saw the hand drop. 

  
“My names Josh,” he said and Tyler shrugged.

 

“You know my name, everyone knows my name,” Tyler said and he looked over to see Josh roll his eyes and mutter ‘Death’ under his breath.

 

“So why Death?” Josh asked and Tyler thought for awhile. He hadn’t ever sat down and decided that he would go by that from now on, it had just been something that slipped. He thought it suited him anyway. 

 

“Because I am the Destroyer of Worlds,” he said and Josh was confused. 

 

“Earth?”

 

“Any and all worlds,” he explained and he knew that each second he sat there, he was destroying his own world. Tyler Joseph would be destroyed by the time Tyler left The Dark, any ounce of Tyler that still remained would be crumbled under his feet. He might use the name, call himself Tyler for old times sake, but the boy that sat on the couch and laughed with his family died. Death had crushed remnants of his previous self as he followed a stranger into the woods and down roads that caved in on themselves. 

 

Josh seemed satisfied with the answer and he stood, ready to leave Tyler again. Tyler wished that he could have at least done it in the safety of his corner. Tyler was out in the open and knew someone would touch him and ask his name again.

 

“Destroy me, would ya?” He asked and Tyler was shocked. “Or maybe we can destroy worlds together.” It sounded like a tempting offer. A partner in crime as Tyler killed himself. A partner in crime as Tyler walked up the grass hill and crouched so he was barely visible, where he could look out over the town and feel like he was bigger than everything else. 

 

He ended up gravitating towards Josh, following him from group to group. He’d sit alone for awhile before he’d get up in search of ratty hair and yellow teeth. He would sit next to Josh and listen to the conversations around him. He’d draw patterns in the dirt and ignore the people as they asked him questions. He only looked up when Josh called his name.

 

“Death?” He said, voice stern enough that even Tyler’s finger stopped in the dirt. “Pete asked you a question,” he said, nodding his head towards the other boy. Tyler looked over and shrugged his shoulders as an answer. He didn’t even understand the question.

 

The other boys left and then it was just the two of them, this time, Josh didn’t leave. He stayed and watched the patterns that Tyler made in the dirt. They were both quiet, only speaking when someone ran through Tyler’s art, stepping on his fingers. The crack was audible as well as Tyler’s scream. The person didn’t stop when Tyler screamed, didn’t look back at the dust he’d kicked up and the artwork he’d ruined. Tyler winced and looked down at his fingers, finding two of them to be crooked, two of them unmoving.

 

Tyler hadn’t meant to cry but he was. Josh’s words were sweet, promising that he’d make it better.

 

“Just need to set it,” he said, taking a hold of Tyler’s hand gently. “Close your eyes, think about something else.” 

 

Tyler had never broken a bone before and wasn’t prepared for when Josh shifted his fingers to the best of his ability. Tyler screamed again and thought that this was worse than the original break. But Josh was whispering about how it would be okay, that the pain would melt away soon.

 

“Let me distract you,” he said and Tyler didn’t understand what he meant. There were lips on his neck, yellow teeth on his neck and Tyler wanted to close his and enjoy it. He wanted to let Josh lay him down and wanted to feel everything but he still felt empty, felt nothing as Josh touched him. He hadn’t realized that Josh hand a hand inside his boxers until Josh was whispering again.

 

“Come on, I know you want it.” That was when Tyler thought to shove his hand away. 

 

“No,” he said and Josh respected his words but it was obvious he was annoyed.

 

“I just wanted to get your mind off the pain,” he said and Tyler felt a sharp ache in his bones at the mention of it. 

 

They sat together quietly, Tyler’s mind drawing blank as he tried to avoid the pain. Josh stared at him the whole time. 

 

“I’ve got some pain medicine,” he suggested and Tyler was confused why that didn’t come up first. 

 

“How could a bunch of homeless kids have pain medicine?” Tyler asked, incredulous that they could have any. He soon remembered that it could have been obtained illegally, that Tyler’s life might, from here on out, become something worthy of being arrested. He thought about stealing, that they might ask that of him, but then he remembered that some were working.

 

“Well, some of us are working and buying stuff,” Josh explained. “I work five days a week to help pay for water for everyone. We buy cases of it with the money I make.” 

 

“How old are you?” 

 

“Twenty-three,” Josh said and it was then that Tyler realized how far apart in age they were. “Do you want some fucking pain medicine or not?” Tyler swallowed and nodded, staying still as Josh left and then returned. He had a needle in hand, partially filled with amber liquid. He’d never seen it before and it was definitely not something that could have been bought at their local store. 

 

“What is that?” He asked and Josh didn’t answer.

 

“Heard one of the older kids was a nurse. Stole some things for us for when kids get really hurt. Broken fingers are really hurt,” he said and Tyler scooted away from Josh and from the needle.

 

“I’ve heard about what can happen if you share needles, is that new?” He asked and Josh nodded. He seemed truthful and it helped relax Tyler. He watched as Josh pulled a shoelace from his pocket and tied it around Tyler’s bicep. It got tighter and tighter until it dug into his skin. Josh was thumbing over the crease in Tyler’s arm, finding the vein easily.

 

“You sure know what you’re doing,” Tyler commented, watching as the needle pierced his skin and the liquid entered his vein. He stared blankly as the needle was emptied. Tyler kept waiting for something to change, for the pain to dull, but nothing happened.    
  
What did happen, it came on slowly. Tyler didn’t notice the way he curled his hands into a fist and his body screamed at him to stop, he couldn’t lift his arms, couldn’t move. He felt like laughing but instead he looked up at Josh, trying to form words and failing.

 

“It’ll help the pain in your chest, too, you won’t feel so empty,” Josh explained, scooting closer so he could pull Tyler into his side. Tyler couldn’t keep his head up and he let it rest on Josh’s shoulder. 

 

“‘S not medicine,” he mumbled, letting Josh manhandle him so they were cuddling. The other kids seemed to notice but they didn’t comment. 

 

“No, it’s not. Just a little smack to take the edge off things,” he said and Tyler hadn’t heard of smack before. He nodded and smiled, resting his hand on Josh’s lap. 

 

That night they left The Dark for a few hours. Tyler wasn’t aware of what he was doing but he vaguely remembered running through the field just outside, remembered screaming until Josh put a hand on his mouth and threatened that the cops would come pick him up if he didn’t be quiet. Tyler remembered yellow teeth and breath that tasted gross but he tasted it anyway. They crashed to the ground together, a mess of giggles and kisses. Tyler let Josh touch him and forgot that he had said no not too long ago. 

 

He let it happen because Josh was warm and persuasive, a hand barely touching him over his boxers and a mouth that bit marks into Tyler’s neck. Then it was gone and Josh was shoving him away. Tyler fell to his ass, confused at their changed positions and confused why Josh had stopped touching him. It felt good, did Josh not know how good he made Tyler feel?

 

“You do me first,” Josh said, unbuttoning his jeans as he gave Tyler a look. He reached in his boxers and pulled out his cock and it was only half hard. “If it's good enough then I might touch you again.”

 

Tyler crawled over and touched Josh, carefully, experimentally. He'd never been with anyone before and wanted to go slow, he wanted to at least remember the experience. Josh didn't agree. He grabbed Tyler's hair and yanked on it, pulling his head down and down, whispering quietly to him. 

 

“I could get anyone's hands,” he said. 

 

“I only want you for your mouth,” he said. 

 

Tyler didn't think about how neither of them had showered lately or how badly it tasted. He didn't think about how Josh was using him, holding his head in place as he fucked Tyler's mouth. Tyler was gagging and trying to pull away but he couldn't. 

 

“Relax,” Josh said and Tyler did. He did as best he could. Josh kept pushing in farther and farther, hitting the back of Tyler's throat and making him gag. He was shaking, tears on Tyler's cheeks and making wet spots on the bottom of Josh's shirt. He was desperately pulling away, feeling acid rise in his throat. He couldn't get away. 

 

Josh didn't stop until he was finished, didn't care or didn't notice that Tyler vomited and it got on Josh's clothes. Tyler could taste it each time Josh pushed in, the bitter taste of acid in his mouth, soon followed by the bitter taste of Josh's come. Tyler didn't like the taste of either. 

 

The grip on his hair was gone and Tyler pulled away, sobbing over the air that rushed into his lungs. He fell backwards, laying on his back as he covered his face and cried into his palms. Hands still touched him, touched his stomach and his chest, a hand in his pants touching his cock. There was a voice in his ear that degraded him, told him how disappointed he was. 

 

“Your mouth wasn't even that good.”

 

“What a baby.”

 

“I just wanted to jack you off, too.”

 

Tyler cried into his hands because he could still taste bitter and he cried because he couldn't get hard. The hand on his cock was harsh where it tried to jack him off, squeezing too hard and dragging too much and Tyler cried until the hand finally pulled away. 

 

“Useless piece of shit,” Josh said before he helped Tyler to his feet, pulling him in for a hug. 

 

After that, Josh kept promising that more was better.

 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered as he pumped Tyler’s veins with more amber liquid. It went on and on, more drugs pushed into his veins and it stopped feeling good. Tyler whined one day, asking Josh to stop.

 

“I don’t like it,” he said, tears on his face as the shoelace around his arm tightened painfully. Josh’s hands were angry as they moved him around. Tyler tried to fight against it but he was weaker than he had been only a month before.

 

“Stop fucking moving, I’m trying to help,” Josh said, pinning Tyler’s arm to his leg. 

 

“I never feel good, I don’t want anymore smack,” he said but his body stopped fighting and he sighed when he felt the needle under his skin. 

 

Tyler felt okay again after the medicine worked it’s way through his system and he sat with Josh, drawing patterns in the dirt again. His fingers were better, they didn’t hurt anymore, but he couldn’t bend them all the way. He knew that he should have gone to a hospital but he couldn’t, not without getting sent home. 

 

They sat together with their sleeves rolled up. Josh was working the shoelace around his own arm. 

 

“Lost my needle, can I borrow yours?” He asked and Tyler froze. “I’m clean, I swear,” he tried but Tyler nodded anyway. Some part of his brain screamed no but the rest of him was numb, empty, he couldn’t be mad when Josh made him feel okay. 

 

“I’ll protect you. Don’t share with anyone else, they don’t care about you the way I do,” Josh explained and Tyler believed every word of it. 

 

Tyler watched as Josh made his own smack. It was powder that he burned on a spoon and it faintly registered in Tyler’s mind what he’d been doing. He faintly understood that Josh had been feeding him drugs, that Tyler wanted more drugs. They sat together with their sleeves rolled up and Tyler compared needle marks on their arms. He thought they were beautiful. 

 

Hands were on Tyler again but this time they were soft, gentle. They touched the angry pink scars on Tyler’s wrists.

 

“Why?” He asked like he couldn’t understand Tyler’s reasoning. Tyler shrugged, keeping his eyes off of Josh’s hands and off of his own scars.

 

“Why not?” He countered and Josh made an indecipherable noise. 

 

“Beautiful scars on critical veins,” Josh said softly and Tyler looked down. He didn’t see the anger in the color as Josh leaned down and kissed each scar. Tyler didn’t see the anger because it looked more like they were blushing. He smiled, feeling better than he had in a long time.

 

Tyler gave up his corner for awhile, curling up on the wall with Josh instead of alone. He curled up with needles and smack and a warm body that touched him too much. But Tyler didn’t mind because Josh was always there when he started to get cold and when his bones ached. He said he felt sick and Josh was tying the shoelace around his arm and pumping more drugs into him. Tyler never felt okay but he felt better, he felt bordering on normal. 

 

He laid down next to Josh, intending on cuddling for the better part of the night but Josh moved away.

 

“You need to help out with money,” he said finally and Tyler was confused. He knew he was nowhere near being eighteen. 

 

“I can’t, Alex said I-” 

 

“I don’t mean a job,” he said and it confused Tyler more. 

 

He got used to standing on streets at night and shivering. He got used to coming home with pockets full of cash. He handed the money over to Josh and was rewarded with a kiss.

 

“You can have some more than last time,” Josh said, pulling more smack into the needle. Tyler felt better than he had in a long time and he begged Josh to go run through the field again.

 

“I feel like I’m floating,” he said, tugging on Josh’s wrist. 

 

“Aren’t you tired? How many people?” He asked and Tyler shrugged, pulling harder. Tyler stopped to think for a moment.

 

“Three, maybe four?” He asked, not being able to remember through his hazy mind. 

 

They laid in the field together, quiet and counting stars that blurred together. 

 

“Death?” Josh asked quietly, intent on asking Tyler to suck his dick, to let him come in Tyler's mouth. 

 

“Tyler,” he corrected, not minding if Josh knew. “So when we destroy worlds together, you at least have one solid thing beside you,” he explained. Tyler was crumbling away but the person that emerged still knew himself as Tyler. He was the twisted version that craved needles and craved Josh, but it was okay because Josh was the same. 

 

“Tyler,” he said, looking over and Tyler thought that they would kiss. “Suck my dick and let me come in your mouth.”

 

They ran through the field together after Tyler finished his task and then they passed out together, tangled limbs until the sun rose and they heated up more smack and Tyler felt good again. He held Josh’s hand and they smiled until Tyler left to go stand on the sidewalk and shiver until his pockets were full.

 

Tyler always went back to The Dark and handed Josh the money he made. Josh told him that if he had to go find Tyler, if he had to ask, then Tyler would be on his own. In more ways than one and the thought of that terrified Tyler. So he always made Josh his first stop. He’d smile and hand over the money and Josh would kiss him and tell him it was okay. He’d tell Tyler he was amazing.

 

“Best I’ve ever had,” he’d say as he pulled Tyler to his lap, as he touched Tyler. A shoelace tied around Tyler’s bicep and a hand on his cock and Tyler wouldn’t complain. He never got hard but Josh stopped caring. 

 

“Suck me off,” he’d say and this time Tyler wouldn’t throw up. He’d get on his knees and he wouldn’t care if the other kids saw or if anyone said anything because he felt wanted with Josh’s cock halfway down his throat. Tyler would pull away and smile with come on his lip and he’d smile as Josh shoved him away.

 

“Not even that good of a mouth,” he’d say with open arms that welcomed Tyler back.

 

But he didn’t give the money to Josh tonight. 

 

Tyler made a pit stop before he went back to The Dark. He wanted to do something nice for Josh so he kept the money and found a person standing in the shadows. Tyler asked for smack and the man emerged was, looking Tyler up and down for a moment. He gave up practically all of the money he had but he was promised it was the best in town. Tyler thought it was worth it. 

 

When he got back was when he realized how tired he was. He’d been with too many people to count, had had someone shove him into a wall and fuck him until Tyler cried. He couldn’t walk and it hurt to sit and Tyler wanted to go to sleep. He was back in his corner, curled up on his side as he tried to massage away the bruises on his arms and wipe away the tears on his face. He forgot about the score in his pocket.

 

Tyler woke up to a slap on his cheek and angry hands grabbing him by the hips and pulling him out of his ball. He screamed, trying to get the hands away before he realized it was Josh. He tried to get Josh to calm down. 

 

“What did I tell you?” Josh said, repeating it over and over. Tyler scrambled to his feet, already feeling the ache set into his bones. He reached into his pocket, expecting money, and only finding a small plastic baggy. He had forgotten all about it and tears sprung to his eyes.

 

“Josh, I can explain,” he said, reaching for Josh and coming up with nothing. Josh was backing away and shaking his head.

 

“What did I tell you?” He asked again before turning and going back to his spot, not caring that Tyler was following, grabbing at the back of his shirt. Josh didn’t care that Tyler dropped to his knees, begging and pleading for a second chance.

 

“I just need a little to get me by,” he said, knowing he could find tools from other kids here but also knowing he couldn’t put a needle into his own skin the way Josh could. Nobody else would do it for him.

 

“Only you,” Tyler said, knowing he was stuck and that Josh was ignoring him. He sat there for as long as he could, shaking and clawing at his arms, wanting to get his bones to quit hurting. They didn’t and Josh wouldn’t look at him. He crawled back to his corner and stayed there, shaking and sobbing. Other kids stared and they apologized but nobody offered help.

 

“What do you need?” Alex asked and Tyler cried harder.

 

“Josh,” he said and Alex didn’t move.

 

“What do you need?” He asked again and Tyler hid behind his hands.

 

“Needles.”

 

Josh didn't stop ignoring Tyler even when Tyler was vomiting in his corner. The other kids offered up needles filled with normal but Tyler knew he couldn't do it himself, knew that they wouldn’t put the needle under his skin. He went back to Josh, hands shaking violently and his lips shiny with spit and stomach acid. He had tears on his cheeks and he gagged again. He dropped to his knees and fell into Josh, sobbing into his shirt because Tyler was in pain. He felt like he was on fire and under ice, like he'd ran for miles and hadn't moved from the same spot for months. He needed to throw up but nothing came so he sat, a puddle in Josh's arms. 

 

“Please, please, I need you,” Tyler begged, words hardly understandable. He was shoving the needle into Josh's hand, trying to make his message known. Josh's hand didn't close around the needle and it rolled onto the dirty floor instead. 

 

“Do you need me or the drugs?” Josh asked, voice emotionless. Tyler didn't know how to answer. 

 

“I'm sorry I didn't give you the money, I just wanted to get some better smack, for us, only for you,” he reasoned and it seemed to break Josh enough that he reached for the needle. 

 

“Nobody else?” Josh asked, picking up the shoelace that he'd discarded next to his mattress. Tyler shook his head, regretting it when more acid crept up his throat. 

 

“I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours,” Tyler repeated, body limp as Josh moved him. His body was limp as Josh's own shaking hands struggled to find a vein. He stabbed Tyler twice before he found one. 

 

Tyler's head lolled to the side as he waited. It was never enough anymore but the shaking slowed and his body felt at peace. There were hands on his body as he laid there, unmoving and unresponsive, the drugs slowing his mind but Tyler was happy. If the hands touched his cock then he never knew. Tyler couldn't get hard when he was high. 

 

Josh didn't care, he said it helped, it was for them. He sucked and licked at Tyler's cock as he got himself off. He pulled away as he came, always on Tyler's chest or his face. ‘Mine,’ he'd always whisper when Tyler was too drugged out to notice or care. 

 

The next day, Josh didn’t give Tyler as much smack as he was used to. The shaking didn’t stop either.

 

“Josh, please, you know I need more,” he said, scooting closer and grabbing at Josh’s arm. He felt nauseous already and knew it would only get worse. 

 

“You lied to me, besides, I don’t have anymore. I was going to go tonight,” he said but tonight was too far away for Tyler. He was sick now, his body threatening to give out so Tyler stood up on shaky legs and looked around the building.

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Josh said, voice stern. Tyler hardly noticed over the pounding in his head. “I told you, I was the only one who was going to protect you, nobody else cares.” When Tyler looked back he was shocked to see that Josh looked scared. 

 

“Are you scared for me or the fact that I don’t need you anymore?” Tyler asked, trying to get his feet to work. It looked to him like Josh might cry. 

 

“They won’t take care of you,” he said, ignoring the question altogether. Tyler nodded and then turned, walking off towards a different corner where he saw spare shoelaces and sunken cheeks. They looked as dead as Tyler felt so he assumed it would be his best bet. He took a seat next to a boy he hardly recognized and had hardly opened his mouth when one of them spoke. 

 

“You here for smack?” He asked, and Tyler regretted coming over to them. They looked like they were on their deathbed, strung out and in pain. Tyler only saw one needle and knew they were sharing and he swallowed. Tyler wanted to get high and run through the field again but he couldn’t, not with this group. They’d never have the energy for it. Tyler nodded anyway. 

 

“Yeah, I need some smack. I can’t stop shaking,” he said and he watched as one of the boys pulled a spoon out and another handed Tyler a shoelace. He looked down at it like it was foreign, realizing that he came to the same dilema. 

 

Tyler sat there for a long time, holding a needle in his hand and not knowing what to do with it. He had no idea how to find his vein, how to do any of it. His shaking got worse and he looked around at the group he was with and he realized why Josh had told him not to. He didn’t want to share a needle with the people around him. He sat there for an hour before he decided he’d apologize, he’d beg until he got at least a little bit more. 

 

If he was good, if tomorrow he made a little extra money, if he went straight to Josh, things would be okay. But Tyler turned around, set on begging, only to find Josh with someone on his lap. Someone that Tyler had seen before but had never talked to. They had hands all over each other and Tyler knew that his mouth would be good enough, that he wouldn't throw up or cry, he'd beg to touch Josh in the way Tyler wouldn't. 

 

Tyler went to his corner and curled up, forgetting about the shaking as he watched Josh and the boy. He watched as Josh pushed drugs in this boy's veins, watched as they laughed together and held onto each other. The only thing that kept Tyler from crying was that Josh didn't share a needle.  _ Their  _ needle was on the other side of the mattress, empty of any drugs but there nonetheless. 

 

And the next night, Tyler worked as hard as he could. If he was sweating then he promised that it was because they fucked him so good. If he shook and if he cried, it was because he wanted more. He threw up when they left him and then he wiped his mouth, pretended like he didn't feel on the edge of death. His pockets were heavy as he went home, heavier than they'd ever been. 

 

Josh still had the boy with him, curled up next to each other. Tyler's needle was still there, half filled with smack. It was enough to make Tyler feel good and he eyed it nervously. Tyler walked up to them, standing at the edge of the mattress, too scared to look up and see that Josh didn't care anymore. 

 

“Tyler, get over here,” he said and Tyler looked up, finding the other boy pushed to the side, his eyes wide and shocked that he'd been discarded so easily. Tyler dropped to the mattress and crawled over to Josh. He let himself be manhandled as Josh dug in his pockets and pulled the money out. 

 

“You were busy?” He asked and Tyler felt tears come to his eyes. 

 

“Only for you,” he whispered and heard that he was shushed. He covered his face with his hands, letting Josh pull him closer and closer. He laid on Josh's chest, the shaking never stopping but his chest didn't hurt so much. 

 

“How about we fix you up,” Josh said, the shoelace dancing over Tyler's skin before it tightened and Tyler cried from relief. 

 

“Please, please, please,” he whispered, not stopping until he felt the familiar pinch of a needle in his arm. 

 

They laid together and whispered back and forth, not minding the stares and whispers about them, not minding anything at all. 

 

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered, holding tighter to Tyler.

 

“I know,” Tyler said, the shaking finally stopping, the cold sweats gone. 

 

“I mean it, Tyler, I’ll protect you,” he said and Tyler didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if there was a way to respond. He could only say he knew so many times, could only hear Josh promising to protect Tyler so many times before he’d cry. So he stayed quiet, he let the kisses on Josh’s cheek talk for him and Josh let his arms around Tyler talk for him, too. They were quiet, caught up in themselves that they almost missed the screaming. 

 

They sat up and saw the chaos, kids running out back exits and kids standing there, yelling for help, not knowing what they should do. The men in dark blue uniforms were obvious where they came in the front entrance, were obvious as they yelled ‘cops’ loud enough for the whole building to shake. Tyler was being pulled to his feet, was told to run. 

  
Josh’s hands were on him, pulling, begging him to run but Tyler was confused, Tyler was dizzy. He tripped over his own feet and the hand was gone, leaving him behind. Tyler scrambled to his feet and saw Josh standing at the back exit, watching him, waiting for him. Tyler tried to run but hands were on him, hands were on him and it wasn’t the hands he wanted.

 

The hands pushed him to the ground, they handcuffed him and left him. 

 

Tyler watched as Josh left. He left Tyler behind and didn’t look back. 

 

By the time that Tyler got to the police station, he was shaking. He felt sick but he had nowhere to go, no way to get more drugs. He sat there instead, not looking at the officer in front of him.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked for the third time, frustrated by Tyler’s response.

 

“Death,” he said, like he always said. The officer asked like he did the other times before.

 

“Why Death?”

 

“Because I am the Destroyer of Worlds,” he said and the officer’s eyes rolled. Another came in and set a file down. He didn’t look at Tyler as he talked to the other officer.

 

“We checked with local missing person’s reports. This one was filed a couple of months ago. His name is Tyler Joseph and I’ve contacted his family already.”

 

It was the first time since leaving that Tyler had thought of his family. He tried to not let it show on his face. He tried to understand them when they spoke to him but nothing made sense. A hand went to his mouth and he looked at the officers and they pushed a trash can to his side. Tyler vomited, hoping that it passed quickly. As the officers left, Tyler heard what they said.

 

“Damn runaways and their drug habits,” they said and Tyler was ashamed. He was ashamed that he left his family for this life. He was shaking and his arms had needle marks in them. He was skinnier than he used to be, eyes sunken in and skin pale. He looked awful and he was sure his parents would know. 

 

They sent him to his parents house but it didn't feel like home. He ate dinner and couldn't finish it all, the threat of throwing up was all too real. He went to his room and ignored his family. 

 

“We missed our baby,” they said but they didn't realize that Tyler Joseph was dead. He had been thoroughly destroyed. Everything in Tyler's wake had been destroyed, tidal waves and hurricanes took him out, took everything out. He sat in the rubble of his destruction and didn't recognize a single thing. 

 

He sat there and wondered if he should start over. He thought of recovery, of what his parents begged him for. They knew he'd been using, could see the marks on his arms when he pulled his jacket off, they begged him to get help, treatment, therapy. “No more,” his mother said, tears in her eyes as she touched Tyler's cheek. She only touched him after he'd showered. 

 

He sat there and wondered if he should leave again in the middle of the night. He wanted to wander through unknown towns until he found a sign of Alex, of Jack, until he could see the ratty hair of the man he loved. He never told his family that he did it all for Josh. Every moment of the time he was gone was for Josh. The drugs, the tears, not even the cops knew about Tyler's nights spent on sidewalks and shivering as men and women came up to him, handing him money and taking him with them. He'd do it all again if he could be with Josh. 

 

He sat there and wondered if he should rip open the scars on his wrist. Josh had called them beautiful and Josh had left him. He wanted the scars off of his arms but he also wanted to not breathe. He wanted to rip open his veins and let the blood and drugs leave his body until he was clean, until he was dead. They could bury him with his own ratty hair and matching yellow teeth and he would think it would be the best thing that happened to him. 

 

Tyler sat there and wondered what would be the best for him. He laughed because the choice seemed obvious. He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, fingers tapping against his chest. 

 

“Now, I am become Death, destroyer of worlds,” he said to his ceiling. 

 

Tyler sat up and closed his eyes. He gave his options one last choice before he opened his eyes and set his jaw. 

  
He decided to do it. 


End file.
